Fur, Magic, and Metal
by aliengirlguy
Summary: Harry Potter, boy wizard has a rather furry situation. To top off he is sent far away from by his arch-rival and must contend with facing new challenges of giant robots and another hidden war with global consequences. AU, Animal!Harry. Warning: A few mentions of straight people, but not a big part of the story.
1. A Furry Little Trip

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
This story is also based on characters and situations from Transformers which is created and owned by Hasbro and affiliates No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: This is a complete Re-write (as of June 2017) that I am doing for a very old fic of mine, "Fur, Magic, and Metal" the first ever HP related fanfic I ever wrote as well as first crossover. It was pretty bad, trust me on this, and recently I went over it again and thought to myself: "man this could use a total overhaul and a totally different direction" so that's what I'm going to do.

Chapter 1: A Furry Little Trip.

There were good days, there were bad days, and then there were Harry Potter days, or in this case, Harry Potter weeks, months, and in the case of the majority of his childhood, years. This particular day seemed to accent the whole Boy-Who-Lived-to-End-Up-In-These-Situations. A long but appropriate variation on a ridiculous title that was nevertheless accurate in the general see-saw of his pure dumb luck.

"This is it Potter! Lets end it here and now!"

This rather snarled declaration was made by an immaculately groomed, icy blond teenager by the name of Draco Malfoy. This 16-year-old teenager was glaring at a teen of similar age, though in his case, his features consisted of dark hair whose consistent lack of grooming had offended the blond since the first day he had lad eyes on Potter. It was the exasperated rolling green eyes the colour of the darkest curse out there, an irony considering his status as a symbol for all that was righteous and Light, that offended Draco's sensibilities the most though, as they always looked upon the Pureblood as if he were somehow less then what was his natural right as a Pureblood of the most noble House of Malfoy.

Unlike the challenge ready Slytherin however, this night Harry Potter lacked the usual drive for combat that was the standard norm as school rivals. In fact, Harry didn't feel like registering Malfoy at all and instead, keeping his attention on a rather interesting painting of a surly witch with ginger hair and a large wart over her right eye.

The painted witch glared down at the two students who dared to wander around after hours and sniffed in distaste, returning to her painted scroll that was held in her equally painted hand and stomped out of her frame to find a picture with a quieter setting.

"Potter!" The blond snarled again, brandishing his wand.

Harry groaned. It figures, he tried to be the mature one in this relationship/rivalry for once, turn the other cheek, but no, the stupid shellacked prat just had to start things off before he had even properly slept in his own bed the first night back.

Though he supposed that it was partly his fault for leaving himself open by being out n the halls after hours on his own.

He had been avoiding going into the common room because he was sure his friends would be waiting to pounce on him with questions and support towards his well being.

Harry grunted in annoyance. Not that he wasn't ungrateful for their concern, but all they did was tread around him on tip-toes since Sirius had died, or tired to get him to talk about his loss when he just wanted to not think about what happened at the Ministry for magic at the end of the previous school year. Frankly he was getting tired of being handled like he would crack at the slightest pressure.

Sure, he had not slept for a long while. He was stressed, why wouldn't he be? He was under the aegis of a freakin' prophesy that had cost him his entire family, both blood and godfather, from the mouth of a drunkard whose encounters with Harry consisted of predicting his death with great inaccuracy whenever she clapped eyes on him.

The only upside to the summer was that both Harry and Voldemort, for once in their exchanges, had come to an agreement over something. In this case not to utilize their mental link against each other.

It was a bold move on both their parts and both would deny that the agreement ever happened, that is if anyone thought it possible enough to even ask. Voldemort didn't want his super secret war plans to fall in the wrong hands and Harry just wanted to avoid a headache. Besides, he wasn't a member for the Order anyway, to young they said, despite his apparent importance as their one shot to victory, wouldn't be able to reveal anything of interest to the Dark Lord.

The both of them had come to the conclusion that the link was more hindrance then help to either of them, and thus one evening, without any warning, rather cruelly downloaded (for lack of a better term) the knowledge on how to construct Occulmancy shields, with the terse command to use them already through Harry's raging headache and nosebleed.

Harry suspected the man wouldn't have bothered to have shown him how to protect himself in that quarter and would have just remain comfortably behind his own barriers and just ignored the link, if it weren't for that rather awkward evening when Voldemort had been enjoying the lusty attentions of a few of his followers, while Harry that same evening, had gotten fabulously drunk at a rager he'd crashed a few streets over, and had been busy finding solace in the arms of a few drunken party goers himself. in the throes of ecstasy, both had been accidentally drawn into the moment of the other's trysts.

Neither of them had been pleased that the Dark Lord had been present on the night that Harry lost his virginity, and Harry had saw more then he cared to of the Dark Lord's followers.

"Damn it Scarhead, don't you dare ignore me!" Draco Malfoy growled, drawing Harry's attention back to his rival, "this is a matter of family honor! I am here to avenge my Father!"

"Your father?" Harry asked incredulously, "that's what's got you so bothered?"

Draco's wand trembled, and little red sparks burst from the tip as he hissed, "because of you he was sent to Azkaban!"

Harry snorted, "Yeah, and I would agree that at least it sucks he's in there if it weren't for the fact that your father was broken out of jail months ago by your precious Dark Lord."

The tip of Draco's wand dropped briefly in shock, "how the hell do you know that?! Not even the Ministry is aware that Father escaped yet!" Draco spluttered.

Then to Draco's confusion Potter blushed a brilliant red, "Erm, trust me Malfoy, you do not want to know how I know."

Draco dismissed the odd reaction and focused on the matter at hand. He puffed out his chest and said seriously, "Well, Father may no longer be in Azkaban, but he is now a fugitive! Shunned from legitimate society! And because of you, the Malfoy family's reputation has been irrevocabley tarnished!"

Of course, it being Draco Malfoy, being of one of the oldest Pureblood families in Britten, groomed for succession of his father's title, raised in riches, spoiled and arrogant despite any sort of rare humbling experience he may have along the way. As the Malfoy heir, and because he considered Potter a git, he did what he did best when angry, he got even.

Draco Malfoy's voice echoed through out the hall as an old curse his father had taught him once fell from his lips, his wand sliding in a smooth sideways 'S'.

A dark gold light erupted form Malfoy's wand, heading straight for Harry in a widening expansive arc that was impossible to dodge, and with a startled yell, it hit him full in the chest with what felt like the force of a triple-decker Knight Bus, and slamming him into the wall behind him.

Everything went brilliantly gold, then white, and then darkness swallowed him whole.

Ooo ooo ooo

Harry's head felt fuzzy and achy. At first, his confused mind thought he was back under the stairs in his cupboard. It was stuffy and dark, and there was very little room to move. But the space around him was tipsy and jarring, like he was being carried in something, and he was also achy all over.

He mewled unhappily, perhaps he shouldn't have sneaked that flask of rum he had stolen from his Uncle's secret stash onto the train, his foggy faculties concluded.

In fact, he was feeling a little nauseous to. The rhythmic rise and fall of...wherever he was, was not helping his sensitive stomach at the moment.

Harry woozily tried to put his body upright and into some semblance of order, only to end up in a sprawled mess back on the ground. he didn't feel right; joints, muscles and so forth were not obeying his brain's commands within the expectations of how this or that part was supposed to move. It also didn't help that he couldn't see anything in the strange pitch black surroundings.

Finally, after struggling some more, he was finally able to heave his body upwards, though without any finesse, and found himself blinking in sudden nearly blinding sunlight as his head popped outside.

It took only a second for his eyes to adjust to the unexpected light, and when they did, it was yell in fright as spread out all around him was vast blue sky, clouds, and above his head was a (from his perspective) owl bigger then he was long was with it's talons clasping the strings of the box to which Harry had burst out of.

The owl gave an annoyed hoot in his direction, Harry squeaked in alarm, pulling himself back under the cardboard flaps.

The sudden light had also provided him with another revelation into his circumstances, as he stared down dumbly, utilizing the light filtering through the half open box which was casting dark rainbows in the glossy fur of two paws instead of the dusky tan of hairless human hands.

Harry, again no stranger to Defense Against the Dark Arts, McGonagall's Transfiguration lessons, and most of all the Weasley twins more creative pranks, was at least somewhat prepared for the reality that he had been turned into some sort of animal. He still remembered that one Easter holiday as a Canary after all, such startling transformations loose their shock value when it was as common as custard in his experience. Instead he was more alarmed by what this all meant in conjecture with the fact that he was currently being sent by owl to someplace unknown, far from any sort of magical aide that could reverse his current dilemma.

Harry growled. The first thing he was going to do, once he had gotten himself, somehow, out of this situation and turned back to normal, was to kick Malfoy's arse, then turn him into a ferret. He still remembered Barty's little spell from Forth year, see how the git liked being Owled somewhere unknown.

Harry settled in for the long haul.


	2. Package Delivered

A/N: Brief mentions of OC characters, though not important to the story. Harry will join the Transformers Prime-verse sometime in the next chap or two.

A/N 2: I also took out the wording of the spell and decided to leave its effects up in the air.

Chapter 2: Packaged Delivered.

Harry had no idea where he was headed or what was to become of him, but he was relatively sure that wherever it was, it was not going to be pleasant. This was Malfoy after all, and the git had an axe to grind more then usual.

From what he could see from the address on the box it read:

 _The most remote rock out the the middle of no where farthest from Brittan._

Yep, definitely not good for him, with his luck he would be dropped on some rock in the middle of the sea, or on top of a mountain in the Alps, or...well, you get the general idea.

He felt around the box, vainly searching for anything that could be helpful, but no, nothing. Granted he did have claws, and his tail was nice and whippy. He was relatively sure that he had been turned into a cat from what he had been able to gather fro ma self examination, and cats were pretty fierce.

Granted he didn't have the bulk of Crookshanks or the cutthroat meanness of Mrs. Norris, nor was he an experienced war veteran like Prof. McGonagall who had likely used her cat animagus form in a duel or two, but Harry recalled all the times he had seen Figg's cats tussling with interlopers such as stray dogs, decimating the local bird populations, and that one memorable time a group of them took out a badger when he was 8. They were naturally fierce after all, born and bred predators.

Harry eyed the crack in the flap above his head. Cats ate birds all the time, and while Malfoy's Eagle Owl was pretty big, it wasn't as big as a dog or a badger, he reckoned he could take it. All he needed was his new claws and fangs and the will to win!

 _5 minutes later..._

Okay, maybe that hadn't been the most brilliant idea, Harry licked at a scratch on his chest. Damn that owl had a nasty temper! and was bloody determined to do its job. 'Stupid overgrown turkey, he didn't even have a feather out of sorts!' Harry's hurt pride chimed in with a mental mutter as his tailed whipped behind him, before his ire quickly faded and he slumped, wrapping his new appendage around his body.

Harry was rather resigned by this point that he would have to wait until he was delivered and take his chances with whatever his destination had in store for him.

Not only that, but he had noticed, during the brief tussle with the owl, that there had been a long stretch of sand dunes and cactus below them, and he was relatively sure that no where in the UK had Cacti.

Harry groaned, he had a long trek home that was for sure, that is, if he managed to survive it in the first place.

ooo ooo ooo

Harry was just about to fall into a light doze, when the sudden sensation of his stomach dropping filled him, and then, with a fang jarring clatter, his box roughly landed on something hard.

Harry's head popped out with an indignant yowl, ready to try for round two, no matter how fruitless, only to find that the cranky stuck up feather duster was already winging away.

Harry shook his fluffy little paw at the sky angrily, then with a growl, looked around himself warily.

His conclusion? Malfoy hadn't been kidding with that address. He had indeed been dumped literally in the middle of nowhere on some random rock. All he saw was sand, reddish tan rocks, and a bug-eyed lizard.

Harry indulged in some profanity, which just came out in screechy yowls that somewhat lost their impact in translation much to his displeasure.

Still, he couldn't just sit in his box and sulk. It wouldn't accomplish anything, and if there was one thing that the Dursley's had instilled in him from an early age, he was never to be allowed to indulge in sitting on his rump when there was an exhaustive amount of work to do. Besides, he had never been one for self-pity, at least not for very long, so Harry stood up and stepped out of the box with determination.

Harry winced, pulling back his ears at the heat and sunlight flaming above, below, and all around him. So in a moment of practical intelligence that Snape often claimed he lacked, he used a claw and his teeth to remove a cardboard flap, worked his long bottle brush tail into the strategically torn holes, and smirked in pride as he now sported his jury rigged shade/fan. Granted it wasn't the most comfortable sensation attached to ones rear, but needs must he supposed, and with a determined gait, chose a random direction and began to walk.

ooo ooo ooo

From what Harry understood about cats, which was a lot courtesy of Mrs. Figg, cats have strong flexible bodies, quick reflexes, sharp retractable claws, and teeth adapted to killing small prey. Cats can hear sounds too faint or too high in frequency for human ears, such as those made by mice and other small animals. They can see in near darkness and a better sense of smell than humans.

Frankly, in Harry's opinion, there was worse things to be turned into, like a flobberworm or a carp. The only thing was, while Harry had found that yes he could hear the life that existed in this place creeping under the shade of rocks or flapping above, looking for a delicious sun cooked carcass, and the claws were handy, particularly when slitting open cacti to lap up its stored juices, and when night fell, he did indeed have enough vision available to him to avoid coyotes and other predators, with a nose to smell them before his eyes as well.

Unfortunately, after three days lost in the desert, his ability to hunt had not magically appeared with the rest of his new form. He often blundered his attempts horribly, as his hungry belly could attest to, definitely lacking any natural finesse for sneaking up on unsuspecting prey.

Harry was looking for a place to shelter on the third day in his new feline life, having lost his cardboard some time ago, when a musing hiss caught his attention.

$Well well...doesn't that fluffy black morsel look tasty? Oh yesssss...$

Harry looked to his right and up, finding that there was giant (from Harry's kitty perspective anyway) Rattlesnake lounging on the rock he himself had been resting against.

$I wouldn't eat me, if I were you$ Harry hissed, $I'm mostly fur at this point, I'll just give you nothing but hairballs and bones$

The serpent reared back in shock, exclaiming, $A Speaker!?$

$Er, yes?$

$Well darn,$ it sighed, and Harry had the sudden notion that the serpent was pouting, despite no outward sign of it, $I was hungry to, and now I'll have to find something else to eat that is unfortunately less stupid$

$Heyyyy...$ Harry bristled.

The snake sniffed, $Nothing but a blundering little fluff ball you are! You scare away what decent food there is, and you don't even at least have the decency to be edible!$

Harry sat on his rump in humiliation and idly licked the top of his paw, pretending that he was unaffected by the snake's rather accurate points, before he finally just hunched inwards, tucking his tail around his front paws and grumbled, $Well its not like I've ever hunted for my dinner before.$

$Obviously$ the snake drawled, then made a very put-upon hiss, then gestured behind itself past its rock, $just go past that ridge and you will find a human nest. A cousin of mine who passed through the area a season back told me they house many beings such as yourself, though from what I understand they don't eat your kind for some reason.$

Harry's ears perked forward with interest at this, and he excitedly sprang to his paws at this news, practically leaping over the rocks and speeding away with only a quick thanks towards the snake.

He didn't hear the serpent's $good riddance!$ behind him.

ooo ooo ooo

One of the things that Harry had always loved about Hogwarts, was how very far away it was from muggle civilization. Not that he shared the sentiments of Voldemort and his ilk about muggles, but he did appreciate not having reminders of the oppressive environment that he escaped from every school year. He liked being able to hop on his broom and just see trees, lake, magical castle, and a village that was inhabited entirely by Magicals. There was space to breath during those moments high in the sky on his broom where he felt utterly at peace despite his trials in the Wizarding World that awaited him on the ground.

When his kitty eyes beheld the small smudge of civilization laid out in its unimaginative box-building, dust covered, sun-bleached glory, tinged with the faint hint of car exhaust and human sweat on the air, Harry thought he might actually cry at how beautiful the sight this obviously muggle settlement.

Jasper City, a somewhat generous title, was sparsely populated. There were a quite a few water towers unsurprisingly, given that it was in a desert, it had a large amount of Ice cream stores, an electronics and gaming store called 'Plug and Play' which seemed to hold the majority of the town's youth, a craft's store, two schools, and what would be Harry's soon to be favorite spot, The KO Burger.

ooo ooo ooo

"Oh my gawd I can't believe we're doing this!" Trini Gilmore giggled, flicking a short blond curl from out of her eyes, "the 'rents would spaz for sure if they knew that I was out on a date instead of at the library studying."

"Well its not like they don't disapprove of me," Maxine purred, walking a finger up Trini's bare arm, "after all, I'm such a nice girl."

Trini laughed at the ticklish feeling and waved Maxine's wandering hands back to her own side of the open topped jeep they were currently sitting in just out side the KO.

"That's not the point Maxi! Its the last year of high school and their all gung-ho about my scoring big on the SAT's. The 'rents think that 'canoodling in parking lots is a distraction from preparing for the future' " on the last bit, Trini held a hand to her chest, pulling off a faux severe tone in mimicry of her father.

Both girls snorted in amusement at that, then Maxine sat back with a smirk and handed over a greasy bag, "well if you wont join me in a little...canoodling, how about a Big KO with extra pickles on me?"

"Well, studying does work up an appetite," Trini said agreeably, rubbing her hands together.

"Oh, I guess you wont want this then," Maxine hummed, waving the wrapped burger back and forth in front of Trini's face, "since you haven't really done any studying today either, I suppose you must not be hungry then."

"Maaaaxiiine!" Trini whined, knowing that Maxine knew that Trini adored all things burger.

"However, I can think of a few things that would work up an appetite," Maxine purred, leaning closer to Trini.

Trini rolled her eyes and gave an exaggeratedly put upon sigh, "Well, I suppose a little...exercise wouldn't hurt, but stay above the top so -HEY!"

Trini was interrupted by the sudden startling blur of black fur diving past her head, streaking towards the dangling hamburger with with a manically hissed $MINE!$ (which neither girl understood), then was gone just as quickly. Both girls blinked in dumbfounded confusion as they beheld Maxine's now empty hand.

Trini pushed Maxine back to her side of the car and said primly, "Well, I guess its a good thing I haven't worked up an appetite then. Might as well head home before the 'rents get on my case about being to late for dinner."

Maxine grumbled darkly under her breath about clam jamming, burger stealing fuzzballs, and reluctantly turned on the car.

Harry meanwhile, from his spot hidden under a nearby picnic table, had ripped into his stolen prize in a frenzy, gorged himself silly, and enjoying every single bite, only leaving the onions, lettuce and pickles behind. When he was done, he rolled onto his back, rounded tummy turned towards the sun.

It was in that moment Harry purred for the first time, as he experienced a perfect moment of bliss.


	3. Bullheaded

Screams erupted from the sparsely populated parking lot outside the desert town's only burger joint.

The reason for these screams was the sudden abrupt appearance of a giant black bull erupting from the bushes out of nowhere like a daisy.

The screaming from the once macking teenagers in their cars and the horn blowing wok up the bull, who moo'ed in alarm, hooves scrambling in the air and shaking the crowd in his panicked thrashings to get his hooves under him.

The large cattle managed to get himself vertical, staring around him in befuddled confusion, then staring down at the broad gleaming black chest, then past that at the short muscular bow legs with thick large hooves. The bull stared down at them dumbly, twiddling them, then swung his head around in confusion.

The bull was soon distracted from his conundrum when the distinct sound of sirens drawing nearer, caused him to rear up in alarm and with a bellow, he turned around and high tailed it out of the parking lot before the fuzz caught his tail.

The teens stared after the retreating creature with gaped mouths as the ground rumbled under their cars.

ooo ooo ooo

Harry had managed to retreat out of town and was now pacing nearby the construction site of some sort of highway construction. So far, the police had not caught up to him, but it was only a matter of time, after all, he was a ginormous freakin' bull.

'Holy bullocks I am having a bad week, even by my standards!' Harry groaned mentally, irritability whipping his tail at yet another fly.

Harry thumped his hindquarters town and took a few deep breaths. Going off his nut was not going to help him, he needed to calm down and think this out logically.

Harry frowned, which on a bull of his size was quite a daunting sight indeed, 'I need to channel Hermione. What would she say to this?'

Harry knew that Hermione would ask Harry what he had done before he had turned from a kitten into a raging bull.

Harry had finally gotten his claws into food since being turned, more specifically that hamburger. Hamburger made of beef, which comes from a cow. Harry blinked, 'is that burger joint selling cursed hamburgers?' Harry didn't think so, or else there would be a whole heard of panicked cattle running rampant through the streets.

No, he was relatively sure this wasn't some sort of convoluted plot by Voldemort to destroy muggles through the greasy delights of fast food.

This has something to do with the damn spell that was placed on him. He racked his bull head trying to remember the exact words that Malfoy had used.

 _"_ _Forma mortem!"_

Harry tapped a hoof against the bone dry dirt thoughtfully. He wasn't the best shakes at latin, but he knew enough from Flitwick's classes to roughly translate "Form, Death" or possibley "form of or from death"

'Actually now that I think about it, I helped that third year with her dead cat that had gotten on the wrong side fo one of Neville's exotic plants after dinner before going for my walk and meeting Malfoy. He rememebered accidentally inhalling some of the loose hairs, a few of them still tickling the back of his tonsils when the spell was cast.

Then the first time he eats meat since this whole fracas started, a hamburger, and now he's turned into a great bloody cow!

Harry knew that the spell, despite sounding rather ambiguious, was also run partly on intent. Harry let out an enraged snort when he realized Draco's in tent when he cast that spell, his revenge.

He wanted the impeccable Golden Boy Harry Potter to be faced with a decision he would never countenance. To turn back into a human, Harry would have to...eat a peice of a dead person.

His revenge was to literally make him the thing that the Dark Lord's followers wore only figuratively as a title of fear. A Death Eater.

Harry's withers twitched in horror.

I am going to kill Malfoy! Harry moo'ed and began pacing again in agitation, hooves kicking up clouds of dust, causing Harry to snort excessivley through his flared nostrils.

Harry was momentarily distracted from his ire when he heard the sound of screams and the smash of metal.

'Now what?!' Harry snorted and clomped hurriedly towards the source of the noise.

He froze when he skidded to a halt and beheld the cherry on top of his latest shitty day.

Harry was standing at the rim of a cement gully, and down below, where two boys, one about his age, and the other perhaps 12 or 13 years of age.

Standing before the children protectivley was… a giant blue robot (!) rimmed in pink, and before that giant robot was even bigger identical giant robots with a glowing line of red where thier eyes should have been made of sharp edges, metal claws and compleatley black with lines and seams of dark royal purple.

It was clear that, what ever the hell he was witnessing was, the human portion in this strange equastion was scared out of thier wits, the source of this fear coming from the obviously menacing triplet bots who had just activated what looked like the barrels of weapons replacing thier hands and pointing at them.

If one were to ask Harry's friends, particularly a certain bushy haired witch, what the most defining characteristic of Harry's personality was, the first thing they would say was that Harry had a "Saving people thing" a dangerously intense hero complex that hard boiled in the juices of his own naturally generosity and kindness, coupled with a knee jerk instinct to please others, particularly the expectations of an entire Wizarding World, no matter the cost to himself personally, and carefully rewarded and encouraged by those who wanted Harry to fulfill a certain as yet unknown desitny.

This little quark of Harry's surged passionatly in his Bovine chest and commingled with his earlier rage, stress and confusion over hte situation, and exploded.

Harry let out an impassioned enraged bellow and without hesitation, lowered his head and charged down the steep curve of the gully, the angle providing him even more momentum and sending him smashing with lethal impact into one of the triplet robots. Harry felt the impact vibrate satisfyingly along his spine, clanging his thick skull and the twist of metal under his sharp horns.

The giant robot fell to the ground under the force of the surprise attack into one of its legs, and Harry took advantage and set about viciously trampling the robot benieth his hooves, bellowing his war cry with deep vindication.

The blue robot took advantage of the...unexpected distraction and dived at the other two robots, and was soon joined by a yellow sports car following Harry's own tragectory, turning into another robot mid leap and taking out another robot.

The enemy was quickly subdued, and Harry, soaked in glowing pink blood that made his skin tingle unpleasantly.

Harry was breathing heavily when he turned to observe that the boys had sensibly taken shelter in a culvert and now that the enemy was down, the yellow one was pointing his obvious weapon in his direction wearily. Not that Harry blamed it really, he must look quite the sight.

Harry's skin tingled even more, a blazing itch at this point. Harry looked down at the remains of the robot beneath his hooves, and spotted the last flicker of red in its mangled face before going out completely.

That's when he realized that his tongue was sort of tingly as well.

Harry's eyes widened when Harry's muscles began to vibrate.

No. Way. 'Shittt!" Harry screamed mentally and hastily, with the last of his coherence and physical ability stampeded away, moo-ing it's a bloody robot for Merlin's sake!

Thankfully, Harry's dubious double bladed luck was working for him. The robots chose not to follow him. Harry had just enough time to dive out of sight some distance away behind a cement mixer before everything went black.


	4. Switching Gears

Chapter 4: Switching Gears.

When Harry rolled over returning to consciousness, it was to whack to his cranium with a reverberating clang of metal against the shovel of an industrial truck excavator that he had been cuddling that finally brought Harry to complete awareness. Harry sat up, rubbing his head grumpy and confused only for the scritch-scritch of metal on metal to meet his hearing.

Then memory returned with clarity, and he looked down at his hands, which given his previous experiences was a plus over paws and hooves, unfortunately they were sharp clawed metal fingers long enough to wrap around his Cousin and Uncle in one go, which was saying something.

 _Servos._

The word suddenly popped into his _processor_ just as a flare of symbols he didn't understand popped up in front of his _optics_ but still somehow gleaned that they were telling him his function status.

Everything was vaguely tinged red, but was in painfully detailed hyper focus to the point that if he concentrated he could zero in on a stream of ants trooping passed his foo- _peds._

Harry's _vents_ worked overtime as he began to do the robot equivalent of hyperventilating. flaring symbols bolded across his optic.

Eventually, after a few cooling vents, the danger blares in his processor died down and he slumped against the truck roof with a groan, which came out rather static sounding then anything human.

It seemed that whatever these robots were, they were apparently both alive enough and then dead enough for the purpose of the curse. He did vaguely recall accidentally getting some of that glowing pink stuff in his muzzle when he trampled that robot to death.

Harry looked down at his servos again, took in the fact that he was now taller then said truck he was leaning on.

"Well Bollacks," He groaned out loud, which came sounding like an evil asthmatic Darth Vader, making him grimace in dismay.

He managed to get to his peds easily enough, and despite some initial disorientation, it was oddly easy to adapt to the feel of his latest incarnation compared to the cat and the bull. Though that was partly his _subroutines_ stabilizing things and that, despite looking down from really high up without a broom in-between his legs, his latest incarnation was still technically bipedal, and thus closure to his more human sensibilities.

But what was he going to do with himself now?

He vented gustily and his cranial clanged repetitively against the piece of industrial equipment.

He was a giant robot, a giant robot that had to figure out how to get his servos on a body to consume the flesh or blood of a dead human being.

Harry's frame shuttered in disgust as he grimly came to terms with the fact that, as reprehensible as he found the idea, he knew that it was his only option. He bared pointed _denta_. Malfoy may think he was too much of a golden boy to do what was necessary, but Malfoy never considered his times with the Durlseys, much of which he was careful that no one was aware of his life there. Among the Dursley's he'd learned a certain wisdom in practicality. He may hate where it took him sometimes, but that wouldn't stop him from doing what needed to be done, or else he would kiss his being able to return to his own body good bye.

Harry tapped a claw on a metal knee joint and considered his options, which were rather slim.

If he was going to get hold of a dead human, and he certainly wasn't going to kill one, he may be practical but not that practical, he figured that he should probably locate the local morgue or graveyard, which he was relatively sure that this isolated town had, like any town. The problem though was that he had to somehow get to either place. As a giant robot, his chances were slim at not being spotted by the muggles and freak them out. Muggles may be further ahead technologically then Wizards, but he was relatively sure that Giant Robots were still beyond their collective nerve.

The thing was, other than those two kids, who looked freaked out of their skins, and whom he was sure had long skedaddled or been whisked away by those protective bots by now, the town had not acted like a place with deadly robots running rampant, so how did all those robots actually wander around so close to civilization without them being spotted?

As if in answer to that question, another set of symbols popped up before his vision helpfully, along with a diagram of what looked like schematics to a rather fancy, slightly sinister looking car.

From what he could gather, his internal systems (?!) was informing him that he could turn into that car. He did recall the yellow robot transfiguring...no, transforming, from a yellow sports car with black racing stripes into his bipedal form.

He stood back up and nodded to himself decisively. Yeah, he could do this, but...a sudden thought zipped through his processor, what if he was mistaken for one of those identical bots that had attacked those people? He wasn't sure what was going on with these robots, but he got the sense that he had stumbled onto not only a secret race of robotic beings, but some sort of conflict as well. The last thing he needed was to get dragged into yet another war.

Another spat of alien code flew by his optics, and he was startled when a beam of red light erupted from his chest and scanned the surrounding vicinity before disappearing and there, the schematics of four distinct vehicles popped up. The Excavator, a Cement mixer, a waste truck, and finally, to his surprise, a plane, or to be more accurate, a bisjet. Harry had been into aircraft for a time as a kid, and always devoured books on aircraft when he snuck into the school library to avoid Dudley during recess, which was how he recognized what type of machine he was looking at.

He felt a sudden thrill of excitement. Could he really...turn into a blitzjet? would he even be able to fly? Did he need fuel like regular machines?

Harry eagerly focused on that one, and it seemed enough for his mysterious internal mechanics to deduce the choice.

Harry yelped as his body began to break apart, twist, fold, spin, compress and enlarge in equal measures.

By the time it was done, a black blitzjet with lines of dark purple on the wings and around the rims of the dark tinted cockpit was sitting where the giant robot had been. It hadn't hurt, but it had been one of the single most unnerving experiences of his life. His vents went into overdrive as he worked on not freaking out.

When he was calm enough, he made tentative attempts at moving around, and while he had a tad more flexibility then he suspected the original machines did, he was still constrained by what was otherwise only possible in this _alt-form._

Harry flexed his wings, tapping a wheel in agitation as the sudden ridiculousness of his situation filled him.

First a cat, then a bull, then a giant robot, and now a plane, and the only way he was going to get out of this was if he consumed a piece of dead human.

Harry felt an urge to rub his temples, which translated in his current body to windshield wipers scrubbing back and forth uselessly.

"Well fuck," Harry sighed, indulging in a little profanity, and was a little unnerved by the rather evil buzzy monotone that popped out of his speakers. He frowned, no that wouldn't do. Certainly, it was great that he could speak English, which could come in handy, but he sounded rather horrible.

Another section of symbols and code filled his, for lack of a better word, inner eye and he had the sense that if he wanted to could change his voice. He was all for it, which was enough to activate the program. After some experimentation, he found one that approximated a teenaged boy from his area of Britain. It wasn't an exact match of course, a little smoother and deeper than his own voice, but an improvement.

That sorted, he turned his attention to his current predicament and helpfully more code filled his processor as he discovered that he was apparently able to access Earth's World Wide Web. His processor, in accidence with his desire, downloaded everything he needed to know about the function of his own body and how to use every bit to fly. The entire processes only took a few minutes, and Harry marveled dazedly at how easy it had all been.

Harry grinned internally as he started his engine.

Ooo ooo ooo

Harry had experienced two methods of flying in his life.

The first was the exhilarating sensation of straddling a broom for the first time and making the stiff wood and bristles sing under his instinctual guidance.

The second had been in a flying magical car on the way to school, which had been less pleasant and more nerve racking, not helped by the fact that he had nearly fallen out of the back seat on the trip and crashed into the Whomping Willow at the end.

Harry's current experience flying as a plane, the vehicle of flight itself, was perhaps even more exhilarating. Feeling the wind and sky slip along his wing, flooding his engines, the pitch of slipstream stroking his chaises..

Harry loved it, and took to it even faster than the broom, pulling loop-de-loops, dives, tight turns and generally having the time of his life.

He was currently enjoying weaving in and out of clouds when something buzzed in his processor. It was like an itchy alarm behind his optics. His processor told him it was a message alert.

Harry mentally blinked, rather unnerved by the idea of having the pervertible walkie-talkie in his head. Grudgingly he activated it with a thought, hovering.

To all drones, return to base, I repeat, return to base.

Harry felt a sudden inexplicable urge to obey.

Acknowledge. Harry pinged back monotonously.

He was zooming North at a good clip for about 10 minutes when he realized what he was doing and froze mid-air.

The urge to follow the order was strong, and the longer he hesitated the more his systems screamed in distress. Harry flew in tight circles fretfully, but no matter how he tried to resist, he couldn't hold off the irresistible urge to obey that screechy voice.

With a curse, knowing instinctively that if he put it off anymore he was likely to explode something important in his current body, so reluctantly his engines warmed and he continued on his journey North.

He would follow it for now, and the first chance he got he would figure a way to sneak away and set about getting his damn body back.


	5. The Base

A/N: *Indicates Harry's new Processor telling him random stuff about his body and other 'bot related things*

Just a short chap.

Chapter 5: The Base.

Harry's first impression when stepping into his first alien robot spaceship, was that either all these robots were who-knows-how-many-tuplets or Harry had inadvertently stumbled upon the Privet Dr. equivalent of giant mechanical beings.

Almost all of the *Drones* were the same dark color with the odd touch of sinister magenta here and there, and all of them were busily toiling away at some labor or other, or patrolling the corridors.

He did, relievedily for his optics, notice that there were a few that were different though. A robot *Cybertronian* standing on a platform above all the business was vastly different from those below. This one was pale with silver *faceplates* glowing red eyes, two large wings, much like Harry's own (appearing when he transformed back into his bipedal mode) and was rather skinny.

Harry grimaced when the Cybertronian *Designation: Starscream, Second in Command of the Decepticons* 'Decepticons?' seemed to have caught sight of the odd drone standing awkwardly below him.

Starscream leaped nimbly from the platform and landed in front of Harry, an obvious frown on his faceplates.

"Drone, explain why you altered your alt-form?"

Harry's wings twitched slightly in nervousness, as he tried to think frantically of an excuse.

That's when, to his relief, there was a sudden announcement over everyone's comm system that the illustrious Lord Megatron had returned, which suddenly left everyone scrambling. Unfortunately, while Starscream seemed no longer be interested in why his Drone had changed his alt-form, he commanded Harry to accompany him and along with another, flightless, Drone.

Harry mentally groaned as his body moved obediently in line with his fellow bot who only spared him a sidelong look when Harry's new wings accidentally brushed against the other's shoulder plates. Harry managed to maneuver a bit of extra space between them as they arched to meet this super important individual that Harry highly suspected he did not want to meet.

ooo ooo ooo

He was right.

Megatron was perhaps the scariest thing Harry had seen outside of Fluffy and the Basilisk. He was a behemoth of bristling silver armor, gleaming red optics, and sharp *denta* with a decidedly sinister voice that reminded him uncomfortably of Voldemort. Now, Harry was not one to judge based on looks, but Harry was beginning to strongly suspect that whatever the hell was going on with these mechanical beings, he suspected that Megatron and Voldemort may share more in similarities then physical characteristics.

Going with this comparison, Harry surmised that if Megatron was the Cybertronian Voldemort, then Starscream was Inner Circle perhaps, like Malfoy, and the Drones were like the outer circle cannon fodder Death Eaters, which Harry had the unfortunate pleasure of finding himself smack dab in.

The association was also helped along by the talk of taking over the world, killing the Autobots, and a brief bout of maniacal laughter.

Harry followed his commanders and, after awhile, sort of zoned out, letting his processor absorb whatever was said to ponder on later. Harry was trying to think of some way to get himself out of this situation, his optics frantically looking around for anything that would sever the connection he had to the Deceptecons somehow.

Eventually Starscream retired from Megatron's side. The mech looked...disturbed by the the strange dark glowing rock that Megatron had shown him. What had he called it? Dark Energon?

Not that Harry could blame him really, the stuff made his *spark* cringe for no reason that he could explain.

Starscream seemed to have agreed as he commanded out loud.

"Drone, I am going for a flight, accompany me."

Harry nodded silently, and together, the two of them transformed into their alt-modes. Harry noted that for an evil robot, he made a rather fine looking F-16 Fighting Falcon.

When Starscream saw his alt-mode he grumbled through his personal channel

Later, out in the sky, Starscream, Harry had to admit, was the best flier he had ever seen. Harry actually felt himself working hard just to keep up with the other mech and his flight pattern. He was beautiful in the air.

When they returned to the ship and transformed, Starscream asked with some minor curiosity.

"How did you get your alt-mode? and for that matter, how are you able to keep up with me? your no seeker."

'You'd be surprised,' Harry mentally chuckled, rather tickled that the flighted versions of these bots, those *sparked at birth* anyway, where called Seeker's of all things!

Harry's wings twitched nervously, "I..." his processor scrambled for a good excuse, "I...was the only survivor in an encounter with the" *Autobots* his processor supplied helpfully, "Autobots. There were humans closing in on our location, I needed to retreat in disguise quickly, and the Auotbots were after me and already familiar with my Vehicle mode. I scanned nearby options and this form seemed the most feasible."

Harry mentally groaned in relief when Starscream seemed to buy it as he huffed, "Well, whatever the reason, I don't really care. You are more useful to me with those wings anyway, after all, the great Starscream should have a drone befitting his excellence! So your standing order is to keep your present Alt-mode, is that clear?"

Harry bowed slightly, and nodded to show he understood.

Starscream have a non-commentable grunt, though seemed relativity pleased by the bow.

Eventually Harry was finally left on his own when Starscream left to go recharge.

Harry scampered off and went to find some place to hide so he could ponder on what to do now.


	6. The Ship

Harry's first impression when stepping into his first alien robot spaceship, was that either all these robots were who-knows-how-many-tuplets or Harry had inadvertently picked up the Private Dr. model equivalent of giant mechanical beings.

Almost all of the *Drones* were the same dark color scheme as Harry, and all of them were busily toiling away at some menial labor or other, patrolling the corridors, or standing at watchful attention.

A robot *Cybertronian* standing on a platform above all the business was vastly different from those below, and highlighted in both in its more unique singular presence as well as position, that it was obviously higher ranking then Harry's brand. This particular individual was mostly silver with few lines of red and white trim, its glowing red optics sneered down at the world, and bore its two large wings, much like Harry's own (appearing when he transformed back into his bipedal mode) which twitched once or twice over some internal annoyance.

Harry grimaced when the Cybertronian *Designation: Starscream, Second in Command of the Decepticons* 'Decepticons? Okie Dokie then' seemed to have caught sight of the odd drone that was Harry standing awkwardly below.

Starscream leaped nimbly from the platform and landed in front of Harry, an obvious frown on his faceplates.

"Drone, explain why you changed your alt-form?"

Harry's wings twitched slightly in nervousness, as he tried to think frantically of an excuse.

That's when, to his relief, a sudden announcement over everyone's comm system bore news that sufficiently distracted Starscream from his inquiry. The illustrious Lord Megatron *Leader of the Decepticons* had returned, which suddenly left everyone scrambling. Unfortunately, while Starscream seemed no longer interested in why his Drone had changed his alt-form, he commanded Harry to accompany him with another Drone anyway.

Harry mentally groaned as his body moved obediently in line with his fellow drone who only spared him a sidelong look when Harry's new wings accidentally brushed against his sides.

ooo ooo ooo

Megatron was perhaps the scariest thing Harry had seen outside of Fluffy and the Basilisk. He was a behemoth of bristling silver armor, gleaming red optics, and sharp *denta* with a decidedly sinister voice that reminded him uncomfortably of Voldemort. Now, Harry was not one to judge based on looks, but Harry was beginning to strongly suspect that whatever the hell was going on, he suspected that Megatron and Voldemort may share more in similarities then physical characteristics and meglomania.

Going with this comparison, Harry surmised that if Megatron was the Cybertronian equivalent of Voldemort, then Starscream was likely some sort of inner circle, like Malfoy, and Drones were the outer circle cannon fodder Death Eater variation, which Harry had the unfortunate pleasure of finding himself smack dab in.

Harry followed his commanders and, after awhile, sort of zoned out, letting his processor absorb whatever was said to ponder on later. Harry had heard the evil scheming of world domination more then once in his little forays into Voldemort's mind, and Harry was trying to think of some way to get himself out of the situation.

Eventually Starscream retired from Megatron's side. The mech looked...disturbed by the the strange dark magenta glowing rock that Megatron had shown him. What had he called it? Dark Energon?

* _Energon: primary fuel source for Cybertronians, emanations, of Primus, complex energy matrix, stored in a liquid state in Energon cubes, one of the primary ingredients towards successful procreation*_ his inner alien compendium supplied helpfully.

'Huh...' Harry shuttered his optics in a semblance of a blink, 'handy I guess.'

Anyway, Harry couldn't blame Starscream's weariness over the thing that Megatron had brought back with him, the stuff made his *spark* cringe just standing that close to it.

Starscream seemed to have decided to work off his own reaction as he commanded Harry.

"Drone, I am going for a flight, and since you presently hold this alt-form, you might as well amuse me by accompanying me."

Harry nodded silently, and together, the two of them transformed into their alt-modes. Harry noted that for an evil robot, he made a rather fine looking F-16 Fighting Falcon.

Starscream, Harry had to admit, was the best flier he had ever seen. Harry actually felt himself working hard just to keep up with the other mech and his flight pattern, he was beautiful in the air and made Harry for the first time ever in the sky, feel almost clunky.

When they returned to the ship and transformed, Starscream said with some minor curiosity.

"How did you get your alt-mode? and for that matter, how are you able to keep up with me?"

Harry's wings twitched nervously, "I..." his processor scrambled for a good excuse, "I...was the only survivor in an encounter with the..." *Autobots* his processor supplied helpfully, "Autobots. There were humans closing in on our location, I needed to retreat in disguise quickly, and the enemy were familiar with my Vehicle mode. I scanned nearby options and this form seemed the most feasible."

Harry mentally groaned in relief when Starscream seemed to buy it as he huffed, "Well, whatever the reason, I don't really care. You are more useful to me with these wings anyway, so your standing order is to keep your present Alt-mode, is that clear?"

Harry bowed slightly, and nodded to show he understood.

Starscream gave a non-communicable grunt, though seemed relativity pleased by the bow.

Eventually Harry was finally let go when Starscream left to go recharge.

ooo ooo ooo

Sneaking around the base was actually a lot easier after that then he had thought it would be.

As long as he looked like he was moving around purposfully no one paid attention to him.

Luckily for Harry it seemed that his luck was finally changing when he came across the medbay.

The Deceptecon inside was a bright red and exceptionally proud of his chaise, evidenced by the polishing he was giving his arms when Harry stepped into the relatively quiet but macabre room. Harry eyed the various spare limbs hanging from the roof and some serious looking lasers and sharp tools.

"Yes?" The Deceptecon *Knock Out* asked, looking irritated.

Then Harry had a sudden moment of brillience and he said in as monotone voice as he could.

"My Command Chip is damaged from an altercation with the Autobots, I was sent to have it replaced."

"Oh, how boring," Knock Out sighed, eyeing him, "though I must admit, this winged version your sporting is somewhat better on the optics then your usal drone alt-form, so I suppose your presence before me isn't a complete waste of my time."

Harry, reluctantly, took a seat on one of the large exam tables and had the unnerving surreal experience of having his chest cavity painless opened and was able to look down at his...Soul?

*Spark* his processor informed him again, something between the soul and a mind.

Harry's was a brilliant glowing green color and so bright that it actually caused Knock Out to squint his optics, "Now that's odd," the Con hummed curiously, "Ok your definitely not boring now. I wonder what caused such a change in your spark? You are to remain here after the command chip is replaced, I might just have to dissect this."

'I don't bloody think so,' Harry thought aggressivley.

Knock Out grabbed one of the sharp tools and carefully dug into a small crevice just at the base of his spark. It was surprisingly painful, and Harry had to withhold a shriek with everything he had.

Thankfully it didn't take long to remove the hexigonal command chip, roughly the size of his once human hand.

Knock Out frowned at the chip being held between two tweezer prongs saying.

"I don't see anything wrong with your Command Chip, it looks perfectly functional to-OUMF!"

Harry dropped the arm he had stealthily grabbed from above his head. He pushed the slightly cranium dented Con off of him and unceremioniously onto the floor.

Harry leapt off the exam table, dragged the unconcious medbot into a supply closet, and left as hurriedly as he could without looking suspecious.

Harry managed to find an out of the way cargo bay door to escape through, transforming into his jet form and taking off into the sky. His tense circuits didn't unwind until the Decpetecon ship was a long gone speck behind him.

After that little adventure, Harry eventually managed to find a series of caves in a local mountain range big enough for a giant robot, and squeezed himself in. His systems were exhausted, and his processor informed him he was due for a recharge, which he assumed was robot version of sleep. That was fine with Harry. He would just catch a few "Z's" and see about getting himself human as soon as possible tomorrow.


End file.
